Spock's Cure
by Das Lieblingsfach
Summary: It is said there is no cure for the infecting tears of an Elasian woman.  Spock, despite himself, will find a way to help Jim. Takes place toward the end of "Elaan Of Troyius". Total, unabashed K/S slash, with a sprinkling of Scotty/Uhura for my own sake.


A/N- This is just one of those 'missing scenes' a Spirker such as myself might conjure up while watching an episode like "Elaan of Troyius". More specifically, it is answer to the scene in which Spock assures McCoy that Kirk's antidote to the tears of Elas was "The Enterprise" which "infected him long before the Dohlman did". I am of the opinion that the Doctor takes this initial statement a bit too literally, so when he replies, "I doubt there is any cure for The Enterprise.", Spock's response of "In this particular instance, Doctor, I agree with you." catches him especially off-guard. Call me biased, but I can see no other explanation for this scene other than something a bit Spirky. Hence, why I wrote this "explanation" for Spock's curious statement. I also felt a bit sad for Spock, who I noticed became a bit more subdued in his displays of jealousy later in the show (though no less evident, really, as his irritation towards the Dohlman at strategic points leaves little to the imagination). I can only imagine he's tried to come to grips with the fact that Kirk is a frequent philanderer, though it really doesn't lessen the pain of seeing Kirk with someone other than himself. So, in essence, I tried to express some of that culminating sadness and frustration into this piece. Also, McCoy is a fun character to write. I intend to work with him more in the future. =D

Disclaimer- Star Trek belongs to the genius that is Roddenberry (my hero and idol).

* * *

"Kirk to the bridge."

His familiarity with the Captain was such now that he could easily tell his exact mood based upon his intonation, regardless of how ordinary or common the sentence. He supposed it was just a consequence of associating closely with a human, as he had found they all did this in one capacity or another. However, his deciphering ability with others was crude at best in comparison to his acute knowledge of Jim.

"Spock here, Captain."

"I'll be in my quarters for a moment or two, Mr. Spock. Call me in if my presence is required."

"Aye aye, Captain."

Even without having heard his voice, it wasn't difficult for Spock to guess the nature of his Captain's current emotional trauma or the cause of his particularly somber tone. A small part of him, a part that he had allowed to tire of the Captain's frequent, barbarous infatuations of late, wanted nothing more than to let the man wallow in the wake of his own mistakes. It was, after all, his choice to pursue those women he fell so deeply in _love_ with, and Spock subscribed firmly to the belief that every action is not without a reaction, one that can no doubt be educationally helpful. He also recognized long ago that the Captain's philandering awakened a particular demon within him, namely, one of his least favorite human emotions. He had done his best to suppress this particular aching and not acknowledge it, but it remained nonetheless. It was because of _this _particular emotion that Spock felt somewhat vengeful.

He realized then, however, that being in the Captain's presence at this particular moment might be more satisfactory than sitting here, attempting to visualize the scene. Jim would no doubt take refuge in friendly company, however brief, and Spock would allow himself to invest some private delight in seeing the Captain come to terms with his recent impulsiveness.

"Mr. Scott, please take the con. There is a matter that requires my immediate attention."

Though he had been a bit concerned someone in the vicinity might question this action, Scotty acquiesced to the command without argument or suspicion and the remainder of the bridge kept their attention focused on their respective tasks. As Spock made his way to the lift, he realized the source of Commander Scott's preoccupation was Lieutenant Uhura, slightly bent over her control panel. He could logically write off the human male's dire fascination with the female form as part of human reproduction, but he still could not justify it to his personal self. Did human men not realize there were always more pressing matters to attend to than a woman's legs? In the case, however, he was grateful that they apparently didn't.

* * *

Upon entering his quarters, Spock saw that Jim was coping with his recent of loss of Princess Elaan by staring blankly at his monitor. The lights of his room were dimmed to the point that they might as well have been off entirely.

"Spock," Jim sighed, noticeably relieved to have company. "I thought you were minding the store?"

Kirk then grinned at him, albeit somewhat halfheartedly. It still managed to make the Vulcan's heart skip a beat, as it always had. He couldn't help but be a bit concerned about this, but he was more than reluctant to take the issue to Dr. McCoy.

"I felt my immediate presence was required _here_, Captain, if you will permit me to stay…briefly, that is."

Kirk nodded, allowing a soft chuckle to slip out in response.

"I understand," Spock began, somewhat precarious. "That the power of Elaan's tears weigh heavy on you..."

The Captain sighed again, his smile fading. "Yes."

Spock swallowed deeply, contemplating the wisdom in continuing his train of thought aloud.

"I realize this must be particularly difficult for you, Captain, given the recent events."

Kirk's eyes suddenly shot up to meet Spock's, immediately bereft of the former misery. They were unnervingly sharp as they bore into him with unmistakable suspicion.

"Recent _events_? Care to elaborate on that, Mister Spock?"

Spock shifted his weight and rolled his shoulders back, determined to see his effort through. He had lost the ability, however, to look his Captain in the eye.

"Surely, you did not forget that you were _married _not two months ago?" Spock was sure the cracking in his voice was evident.

In response, Kirk rose from his chair. His stare had only become more piercing and it did not waver from his first officer.

"What's that supposed to mean? What have you come to do, crush me with your Vulcan morality? I didn't ask nor sought to be in love with that princess, you know that as well as I!"

Spock felt an immediate need to back down from his former cause. It had become far more emotionally charged than he intended, and if he were to permit himself, he'd only list the countless other women Jim had become infatuated with in the past year. For what purpose had he committed himself to this display? He couldn't say for sure.

"Forgive me, Captain…" he muttered, his eyes drifting to gaze at the carpeting beneath his feet. "I am not quite myself today. I will leave you."

He turned on his heel to exit, but Kirk had a strong grasp on his upper arm before the door could swish open.

"You're not leaving just yet," he whispered coarsely. "Not until you make it apparent why you came in here in the first place…"

When Spock simply returned his stare with slightly parted lips, Kirk continued.

"What's all this about my marriage? Or the tears? What does that have to do with you, and why the hell would you pick this moment to throw it all in my face?"

"Sir, I..."

"Answer me, Mr. Spock…" he hissed, his grasp tightening painfully.

Spock found himself at a loss. There was no doubt in his mind now that coming in to the Captain's quarters and saying what he had was a definite mistake. He now had to figure out a way to escape from his friend's grasp, given that said friend was clearly not in his normal frame of mind. He could not think of a method, however, that did not end in physical violence and given the dynamics of the situation, he did not think himself entitled to that sort of action. Instead, he simply stared pleadingly into Jim's eyes, hoping the mental connection they shared would be enough to deliver the message that he couldn't aloud.

Spock was not entirely surprised when Jim suddenly released his hold on him and began to breathe shallowly, but he was most certainly relieved. A look of regret and horror began to take over the Captain's features as he backed away ever so slightly.

"I-I'm sorry…" he managed to sputter out. "I'm…so sorry. I…I don't know what's wrong with me…"

He began to stumble back towards his desk, the hand that had formerly held Spock painfully flexed and twitched.

"No, Captain," Spock whispered through ragged breaths. "I owe you that explanation."

"Well, either tell me or don't, Mister Spock, but make your decision quick. I'd like to be left alone."

Kirk had now managed to return himself to where he once sat and grabbed on to the edges of the desk direly for support.

With a courage Spock had not known he possessed, he began to approach his Captain with a clear purpose.

"I am finding it…_difficult_ to say aloud…" he finally confessed.

Kirk simply stared up at him, bewildered beyond a doubt. He couldn't blame Jim for his confusion. It was obvious the Vulcan had something reprehensible on his mind, a knowledge which, for one reason or another, could not be shared candidly. He could tell from the way that Jim's eyes scanned him that he was afraid of what this truth might be, and for a moment, it made Spock want to exit the room immediately without explanation. Yet, he forced himself to remain.

"Captain, I find myself-" his words faltered yet again. "_Jim_…I find myself…troubled by the company you keep."

"The company? The women you mentioned?"

"All of the women, Jim. I find none of them redeemable."

Kirk began to rise from his chair again, and Spock sensed it was from the same misunderstanding as before. Having decided that talking would not be a wise method to convey his feelings, Spock slipped around the edge of the desk and gently seized Kirk's wrists before he was able to lunge at him again.

This more or less subdued the Captain, but he still slightly squirmed in protest.

"How dare you…" Kirk growled. "How dare you take judgment of my romantic pursuits when you call yourself my closest friend!"

When Spock's hands drifted to cradle either side of Jim's face, the room grew deathly quiet and still. His captain no longer moved, but instead searched Spock's eyes for some sort of explanation. Spock was pleased to see that even in the wake of Kirk's remaining confusion, the fear and reprehension had vanished completely.

"I do not know how to say it…" Spock whispered again. "…and perhaps I should not. Perhaps words are superfluous here."

With that said, Spock began to gently draw Jim's mouth to his. He made the process slow, giving his friend ample enough time to retreat and refuse him. Jim, however, had seemed to melt into his touch. There was a sense of relief in the way his eyelids had fluttered closed, the way his lips softened and gradually separated, the heavy sound his breath made as it fell out of his lungs and into the space between them. It was almost as if he had yearned for this moment just as much as Spock. The idea was almost too good to be true.

Before they both could fully realize it, Spock's dry lips had caught Kirk's in a gentle, chaste lock. An odd sound came from Jim as he leaned deeper into their kiss, and though Spock could not differentiate it from a moan or a delighted mewl, he could still not deny that it was made with the intent of conveying pleasure. He accepted this as a sign of victory.

Even Spock felt somewhat inclined to resign himself to the ecstasy of the moment. He wished to plunge into the electric warmth he now felt resonating from the touch of Jim's soft lips to the tip of every nerve ending in his body, but it was the knowledge that he was supporting them both that kept him firmly in place. Kirk simply continued to swoon, clutching futilely to Spock's shoulder in the hope that it would keep him balanced. In the interest of assistance, Spock let a hand drift from Kirk's jaw to the small of his back. The action unintentionally pivoted Jim's pelvis into Spock's, and the sensation of what had begun to grow there caused the kiss to come to an abrupt, bitter end.

The two simply stared at one another for a tense handful of minutes. Hands had not moved and their proximity to one another had not lessened, yet, they each relied on the other to decide whether this now exposed, raw desire would continue any further.

"Spock…" Jim whispered in awe. His hands gravitated upwards to the back of Spock's upper arms, sealing their embrace. He caressed this area with his palms and fingertips, a smile beginning to form on his face. There was an unmistakable desperation in his actions and words, as if he feared his Vulcan would disappear. He then drew their mouths together again, this time simply ghosting his lips over Spock's, as if to tease the sensitive flesh.

"Spock…" he uttered again between their mouths.

His hands came to rest on his Vulcan's chest, and he proceeded to end the contact between their lips. Instead, he leaned his sweat laden forehead against Spock's and allowed his eyes to close once again. Spock drew his Captain closer to him.

"You were jealous…" Kirk sighed in amusement. "My god, you were _jealous_…how did I not know…?"

"The answer still escapes me, Captain." Spock replied quietly.

Jim lifted his head ever so slightly, gently nuzzling their noses.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Is that not obvious, Jim?" he muttered dismally. "You know what it means to be a Vulcan…and I did not feel confident in my judgment of your feelings towards me…"

Kirk released a deep and throaty laugh, and proceeded to wrap an arm around Spock's shoulders. The other snaked around his waist. He used this leverage to press them together closer than they had been before.

"My god, Spock, what did you think I had been doing this whole time? I hope you didn't interpret my rather overt flirting be just _friendly gestures_?"

Kirk took his silence to mean 'yes', and it made his stomach sink like a stone with the weight of his guilt. He continued to press himself against Spock, though the gap between them had long since closed, and allowed his head to rest in the hollow curve of his neck. His hands came to lay on the Vulcan's shoulder blades, and the two of them rocked for a moment in silent embrace.

"If I had only known…" Jim whispered. He then kissed that tender slope of neck, causing the chartreuse blood beneath the thin skin to circulate rapidly. "It's always been you, don't you see?" He muttered this last statement into Spock's flesh.

Though the Vulcan knew it wasn't wise to allow Jim to remain where he was, doing what it was he was currently doing, he found he simply couldn't help himself. The former need to give himself over to the blinding, surreal delirium of their current intimacy had returned, stronger than ever. Where Jim was concerned, it seemed, his stringent control and self-discipline counted for naught. The Captain's honey-musk scent –no doubt a combination of aftershave and bath soap- that Spock had only been allowed momentary whiffs of up until this moment, now flooded his nose and drowned his rational thinking. He had anticipated a minuscule amount of weakness on his part if an event such as this were to ever occur, but he would have never imagined anything like _this. _

_

* * *

_

While the dark captain's quarter's filled with the heavy breaths of Jim in deep sleep, Spock lay beside him, wide awake. He stared fixedly at the ceiling with both hands resting securely on his bare stomach. The damp sheets, still twisted from all of the prior activity, barely covered their naked bodies.

They had been like this for an hour and 14.65 minutes, approximately. Spock knew well that Jim needed the rest, but he, himself, was in no need of sleep. He took the opportunity to think very hard about what had just transpired between himself and the man that was his captain and closest friend. He attempted to calculate what the repercussions would be, if their relationship could remain intact, and how Jim might receive him when duty resumed. He tried his best to justify his choice to engage in intercourse with his captain logically, but this particular effort seemed impossible. As ever, his thoughtful reasoning where Jim Kirk was concerned waned significantly.

Having already given in to what his humanity demanded, Spock knew it was time to heed his Vulcan-half only. There was only one true, sensible way to resolve this issue, and he imagined that Jim would be expecting this outcome, as disappointed as he might still be.

Wearily, he rose from the admittedly comfortable spot beside his momentary lover. After having gathered his various garments that had been strewn around the cabin, Spock dressed quickly and quietly.

Afterward, he hastily scribbled a simple note on a somewhat crumpled piece of paper. It was an admittedly lackluster finish to the moment they had just shared, but they would discuss the issue more in depth later on. Now was certainly not the time.

He left the note on the pillow he had occupied. He expected Jim would find it when he would roll over and reach for his friend, only to find empty space and the simple, inked words, '_Not yet, Jim.' _

Spock wondered if he might misconstrue this as some form of betrayal. Certainly, he thought, Jim was familiar enough with him now to know that a lack of emotional display did not mean a lack of emotion. It was his way and always had been.

In the end, Spock could find enough reasons to justify his hasty leave from his Captain's quarters before Jim awoke. But in that deep part of himself –that which often housed his more human leanings- he knew quite well the reason was, ultimately, _fear_.

_How ironic, _Spock could hear Jim's voice muse. _A scientist afraid of the unknown? _

Where his feelings for his Captain were concerned, this was certainly the case.

* * *

The Doctor was proud of himself. It wasn't often that he was given a chance to really test the extent of his medical know-how, but this most recent exercise proved he knew more than he originally thought.

_A cure to the tears of a woman of Elas…, _he thought to himself wistfully as he made his way down the hall to the lift. _Why, this could make me a little well-known! _

The best part of it was that it hadn't been too terribly difficult. Here he had been, not a few hours before, with a sample of the Elasian tears wondering how in god's name he was going to help Jim. He knew the only thing to really do was run through the usual motions. He most certainly couldn't promise that the typical scientific processes were going to be effective, but the Captain needed to be cured. Of that much, McCoy was certain. But in the end, his general knowledge and a bit of trial-and-error had been all that he needed.

_Thank heavens there's a cure for this one, _he grumbled a bit to himself as he stepped through the turbolift doors. _I'm not sure which annoys me more…Jim's philandering or that hob-goblin turning bright green every time._

It was true that Spock had gotten better about this last part. In the last three years he had made these rather unsettlingly emotional displays less evident, though McCoy knew better than to think he had gotten over it completely. If anything, it had only gotten worse. The Doctor would sometimes wish he could just slap the dumb out of both of them.

'_What's the matter with the both of you?' _he'd yell. '_For two intelligent men such as yourselves, you two sure can be stupid. Jim, why do you continuously torture Spock like this? Can't you see how he reacts to your little public love affairs? He has feelings for you, Jim, you dumb fool. And you, Spock, how do you not see the way Jim obnoxiously flirts with you? If you weren't such a pointy-eared, logic-minded Vulcan, you might understand how in love he is with you. My god, you two could drive a man to drink…and often do!' _

But none of that mattered, at least not in this case. For once, McCoy had the answer to his current Spock and Jim troubles in one syringe. Never again would he be so fortunate, he knew. In addition, he also had a shot at becoming celebrated for his findings, or at the very least earn a good amount of credits on the sales.

Finally, the turbolift arrived at the bridge and McCoy nearly bounced out to meet Spock with the news. He expected the usual complacent, seemingly-apathetic congratulations that the Vulcan usually gave, but knew full-well Spock would be sighing with relief internally. As annoying as he was, the Doctor had to admit that he didn't like seeing Spock suffer from what he perceived to be unrequited love. After all, he got enough of that nonsense from Nurse Chapel on a fairly regular basis.

"Spock," McCoy called, having to take a second to catch his breath. "I've isolated the biochemical substance of the Elasian tears."

The Doctor had to admit he was a bit surprised that there wasn't even a sparkle of excitement in Spock's sharp black eyes. As stoic as he fancied himself to be, his Vulcan nature was always betrayed when Jim came into the equation. It certainly didn't take a medical degree to see that. Now, however, he seemed more impassive than ever before.

"It's a kind of infection, and I think I've found an antidote for it!"

McCoy finished his statement with an enthusiastic, but ever-knowing grin. Now, he was sure Spock would have something seemingly inconspicuous to say about it, such as, '_Wonderful, Doctor. I am sure the Elasians will be ever grateful to you. For now, I have work to attend to,' _

and all the while ol' Bones McCoy would know better.

Instead, Spock nearly cut him off with a very surprising reply.

"You're too late, Doctor, the Captain has found his own antidote."

It took a great deal of willpower for McCoy to keep himself from smacking the stylus and pad right out of Spock's hands.

"Are you out of your Vulcan mind? Do you know how long I've worked on that-"

"The antidote to a woman of Elas, Doctor, is a starship. The Enterprise infected the Captain long before the Dohlman did."

For a brief moment, all McCoy could feel was a mixture of frustration and disappointment. Leave it to the Vulcan to spoil his moment of triumph, he thought. Nevertheless, it wasn't hard to see how competently Jim was running things. If he didn't know any better, he might have thought Princess Elaan had never crossed their paths, much less Jim Kirk's. He was then reminded of _why _he had spent the past few hours working for a cure in the first place. It wasn't about the sense of accomplishment or the possible acknowledgment he'd receive for being such a smart physician. No, it was on behalf of his two friends' well-being, which had obviously been accomplished without his interference.

Be happy for them, Leonard, he urged himself. This isn't about you.

"Well, I doubt seriously if there's any kind of an antidote for the Enterprise."

_That_ certainly was the god-given truth.

"In this _particular instance_, Doctor, I agree with you."

Spock's response was not exactly expected in the first place, but certainly not what said response consisted of. McCoy's pleasantry had now morphed into a shocked confusion. He looked at the Vulcan as if to say '_You don't mean…' _and the meaning of Spock's telling glance back was irrefutable.

'_I certainly do, Doctor.' _

McCoy didn't know whether to smack them both over the heads for taking so long or for the circumstances in which it was initiated.

"Pair of dumb fools…" he grumbled, as he exited the bridge and re-boarded the turbolift.

He looked forward to arriving back at the medical wing and helping himself to healthy tumbler of whiskey. If there was any man on the ship who deserved it, it was Leonard "Bones" McCoy.

_Fin. _


End file.
